


Feelings in a Coffee Shop

by fangirlcrazy



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Awkward Paul Rovia, Date Mention, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Mechanic Daryl Dixon, Sheriff Rick Grimes - Freeform, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 07:44:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12031341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlcrazy/pseuds/fangirlcrazy
Summary: Jesus’ been working in the same local coffee shop for a little over a year, doing the same things week in week out. He likes to think of himself as a spontaneous person, but the truth is he isn’t.It’s a normal, boring Monday morning when Jesus first notices the very loud motorcycle going past. So loud in fact, that it turns his head to the window onto the busy street of Atlanta. But by the time he looks up from the table he’s cleaning, the bike’s roaring up the high-street.





	Feelings in a Coffee Shop

Jesus’ been working in the same local coffee shop for a little over a year, doing the same things week in week out. He likes to think of himself as a spontaneous person, but the truth is he isn’t. He had his wild days in college and the years following his drop-out. But he is in his mid thirties now and he’s settled himself into a routine. Of course that didn’t stop him letting down his hair and having fun on weekends.

It’s a normal, boring Monday morning when Jesus first notices the very loud motorcycle going past. So loud in fact, that it turns his head to the window onto the busy street of Atlanta. But by the time he looks up from the table he’s cleaning, the bike’s roaring up the high-street.

Paul – Jesus’ biological name - is shooing out the last of the college students when he hears a familiar rumble. Unlike this morning, the biker doesn’t seem to be in much of a rush. The traffic on the high-street gets ridiculous at rush hour, but the beeping horns and slow moving cars doesn’t seem to be bothering the man, or Paul for that matter. He realizes he’s gawking a little too much but he just can’t help it. The Mysterious Biker is gorgeous. He’s got black flowing hair that lands wildly on his shoulders, a growing beard that just looks like he hasn’t bothered to pick up the clippers for a while, which Jesus is not complaining about. The biker’s full shoulders, and damn those biceps, are covered in leather; which is impressive for the sweltering heat. The man reaches up to scratch at his chin giving Paul a look at his hands. He’s never understood the hype around hand kinks, but looking at the biker’s hands now; Paul feels as if he’s had an epiphany. It’s minutes too soon before he’s roaring off out of view.

After Paul has his little moment with TMB, The Mysterious Biker’s just getting too long to say in his head, he notices him every damn morning and evening. No matter what he’s doing to keep himself occupied and not notice the gorgeous guy, he fails. Oh so miserably. There’s even an incident when Paul literally freezes as he’s handing over a customer’s order, and almost trips over a stray cat as he’s taking out the trash. The latter get’s TMB’s attention, and being the smooth hippie he is, Jesus hides behind a dumpster.

Paul’s set himself into a routine around TMB. At 8:50am, he writes the specials on the specials board outside so he can see the biker for as long as possible; at around 6pm he shoos out the latest customers and takes out the trash – careful not to make any sudden noises – and sometimes stays longer than he should just staring and wondering who this guy actually is.

It’s been around six weeks since Jesus first heard the roar of that engine, six weeks of staring and wondering. He’s pretty sure he’s starting to become a little creepy the amount of time one into just looking at TMB’s appearance. Yet it’s still much too soon when the guy comes in for a cup of coffee one Monday Morning.

It’s a completely normal Monday, except Paul was twenty minutes late to work which means he’s behind schedule and won’t be able to write the specials board in time; which in turn meant no gawking at TMB as he drives past. But apparently the universe has other plans because at quarter to nine, the bell jingles above the door, and the man himself walks in. Luckily Jesus’ pre-occupied with another customer given the small queue that’s formed, however that doesn’t stop his eyes from flicking to him every few seconds. As he’s serving the young woman in front of the biker, their eyes meet and Paul’s stomach does a little flip. God he’s acting like a teenager in high-school with a crush.

To try and save himself from some embarrassment Paul brings up the ‘Jesus’ persona he uses around strangers, and more importantly customers.

“Hi, what can I get you?” Paul says with a friendly smile he’s told he pulls off well.

“Large expresso, ‘xtra cream.”

Holy cow he is not expecting that accent – he supposes nothing else could’ve suited the guy more – but damn, is it working for him. 

“Sure, that’s $2.80 please.”

TMB hand’s over the exact amount in the lose change he seems to stash in his pants. Their hands brush as he tips the change into Paul’s hand, Paul flicks his eyes up to the man’s face and their eyes meet again only the other man darts his eyes away and a blush starts to form on his cheeks. God, Paul’s in trouble. 

He notices, as the machine makes the coffee, that they’re the only two left in the shop. This may be his only chance to talk to the guy for a while, if not ever. He thanks whoever’s up there that even though he was running late this morning, he still put on after shave and shoved his hair up in a bun.

“So you new around here? We usually only get regulars and the odd tourist.”

The guy looks a little startled, as if he’s surprised Jesus’ actually speaking to him. He shuffles on his feet as if searching his brain for the right words. He shrugs.

“Jus’ needed a boos’ before work.”

“Ah I see, well hopefully I can make you a regular with the delicious coffee’s we have here.” 

The guy’s blush deepens as he shrugs again. “Maybe.”

Paul smiles about to say more but the sound of the machine stops, meaning the man’s coffee is done. As he’s stirring in the cream he turns to the other man and cheekily asks, “You want chocolate sprinkles on top?”

The guy seems to get that Paul’s only joking as the side of his lips turn up just a tiny bit.

“Nah, ‘m good.”

The younger of the two passes the coffee over and this time brushes their fingers against each-other on purpose.

“See ya…?” Paul asks, hoping to prompt the other man to give his name.

That lip upturns again. “’s Daryl.”

“See ya, Daryl.” Paul says sweetly, the name suits him.

“Later, Paul.”

It’s not until Daryl’s walking out the door that he realizes he never gave the guy his name. 

* * * * /p>

Paul is not moping, he doesn’t care what Tara says, he is defiantly not moping. He is not a drama queen and he can handle his emotions like a mature adult. Okay, maybe that last bit’s a stretch but he’s still not moping.

It’s just Daryl hasn’t been into the coffee shop since last Monday, seven whole days ago. Jesus thought he made a pretty good first impression. He could’ve sworn he felt the connection between them, but maybe Daryl didn’t feel the same way. Maybe he wasn’t even into guys. Which is cool ya know? Paul can get over it, it’s not like it hasn’t happened to him before. But god he just wants to get to know him more. Maybe it’s his mysterious vibe he gives off, but Jesus’ sure it’s more than that. 

He still see’s Daryl drive past in a rush like usual every morning and then again just more calmly in the evenings; the biker even nodded at him a few days ago when he spotted Paul taking out the shop’s garbage, which of course startled the younger man and caused him to almost trip over the trash bags. Smooth.

“If you don’t come out Saturday night what will you be doing?”

Jesus shurgs. “Watch a movie, eat some ice-cream. I don’t know, just whatever it is, it’s not going out with you and Rosita. Never. Again.”

“Oh don’t be such a whimp. That was months ago.”

“A night of heavy drinking like that is enough to last me a year.”

Tara lets out a snort. “Aw man, you were so drunk.”

“Ha ha.” Paul mocks. “I blame you two, you’re bad influences.”

Tara smiles. “Nah, we just make a good team.”

He groans. “Oh for the love of-”

He’s cut off by the sound of a motorbike. Not just any bike, but Daryl’s bike. But he doesn’t roar past like he usually does. He stops outside and puts the bike in park. Jesus swears to the heavens that this guy is out of some kind of movie because it’s like everything goes into slow motion as Daryl takes off his helmet and shakes his part gloved hand – jesus christ, is he trying to kill him? - and run it through his own hair.

Paul’s mouth must’ve been hanging open because as Tara walks past she closes it with her palm.

“You’ll catch flies. I’ll be in the back room if you need me.” She winks at him and leaves. Well at least she’s not staying to embarrass him.

Daryl walks in, the door jingles and Paul realises they’re once again the only two in the shop. Except Tara probably ear wigging from outside the door to the back room not doing any work.

Paul tries to gather that ‘Jesus’ persona again, but he’s drained so much energy he just doesn’t have it in him. Ah well, time to scare this gorgeous guy away.

“Uh, hi. You’re back.” Wow, not creepy or awkward at all.

Daryl does a double take in his step. He looks like he’s recently washed, Paul can smell his musk – okay maybe he’s a little creepy – from where he’s standing and his hair looks smooth and shiny. God, he really does not want to scare this guy away.

“Same again?” he asks politely, smiling a little.

Daryl eyes him, as if he’s trying to suss Paul out. Or checking him out really discretely. 

“’yer remember?” he says sounding unsure, as if Paul could forget.

“Double expresso, extra cream.”

Daryl blushes slightly and nods, hiding his eyes behind his hair again. So he turns around to make his order, trying to get it as perfect as possible.

“So i’m guessing it was good enough to come back for more?” he says, hint of teasing in his voice.

“Was alright.” Daryl murmurs, but Paul can still see the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Jesus!” Tara hollers from where ever she is.

Paul smiles. “As you can see we’re very professional here.” Daryl’s mouth upturned and looked into Paul’s eyes. God what even colour were they? Blue? Green? He just couldn’t tell, all he knew for certain was the strange feeling erupting in his stomach.

“Yes, Dear.” he calls back.

“Rosita’s on the phone, could you close the shop by yourself today?”

“Is it a real emergency or are you both just going out drinking?” Paul shakes his head.

Tara pokes her head round the door and rests her the side of her face against the wall with the sweetest smile on her face.

“But it is a real emergency,” she says sweetly. “I won’t bug you about coming out with us on Saturday,” she winks at him and glances in Daryl’s direction. “Pinkie swear.”

Jesus’ eyes widen at her, piercing his lips together. “Fine.”

She squeals and runs over to kiss his cheek, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She then seems to remember that Daryl is standing right in front of them. She pulls away from Paul collecting herself and then glances back to her colleague. “Sorry to interrupt.” She whispers harshly, just loud enough for Daryl to hear and then quickly walks out the room with a skip in her step.

The machine grunts to a stop and so Paul finishes Daryl’s coffee. He turns to face Daryl, only to find him studying him, his head tilted slightly to the side.

“Everything okay?” Paul asks, worried he’s cocked up the other man’s drink.

“Nah’, nah. Jus’- why’d she call yer’ Jesus?” he takes the coffee from Paul’s still hand with a smirk and glint in his eyes.

This time, it’s Paul that blushes. He ducks his head down to try and conceal it but from the look on Daryl’s face, he failed.

“Oh it’s um- just a nickname people call me. Some have said I look like him, and sound like him sometimes too.”

Daryl bobs his head lightly in understanding. “I see that. I ain’t callin’ yer’ Jesus though.” He hands over the amount for the coffee with a little extra tip.

Paul raises his head to meet the man’s eyes, smiling a little. “I can deal with that.” 

Daryl swiftly walks out the shop. “Later, Paul,” he calls as the door shuts behind him in that gruff voice. The barista feels a little weak at the knees. 

* * * * br /> It soon became a routine they settled themselves into. Every Monday morning, Daryl would stop by and order his usual. Of course the embarrassing moments of the older man nodding or giving a small wave as he went past, which resulted in Jesus acting like a 13 year old girl, came with it.

Being the persistent, and nosey, guy he is, Paul also asked questions on Daryl’s visits. He knew that Daryl grew up in Northern Georgia, he used to hunt in the woods weekly with his Uncle and brother, he worked in a garage fixing up vehicles, he liked classic rock but Paul swears he saw him enjoying a Taylor Swift song once which Daryl will never admit to. He would even come as close to calling them some form of friends. 

Which is why he is so shocked to see Daryl walk into the shop with a police officer on their usual Monday morning. The first thought Paul has is that Daryl must be in some kind of trouble. Daryl walks slightly behind the other man – who looks like your typical white guy cop but perhaps with a slightly more friendly face – looking very uncomfortable. 

Paul meets his eyes with a worrying stare and mouths, “Okay?” Just to calm his racing thoughts that Daryl isn’t in some form of trouble. The biker seems confused by Paul’s question then smiles shyly and nods.

The younger man turns his attention to the cop. “Anything I can help you with, Officer?” Paul asks, politely as possible.

The man takes his sheriff’s hat off, holding it so his chest like some kind of cowboy in those old movies.

“Please, call me, Rick.” he says with a strong Georgian accent, similar to Daryl’s but less northern. “I’m off duty, jus’ here to share a coffee with my good frien’ here while my car’s gettin’ it’s yearly check up. Daryl’s been ravin’ all about this place so I thought i’d check it out with him.” 

Paul flicks his gaze to Daryl who’s fiddling with his bike helmet looking at the ground as if he’s not paying attention, but meets Paul’s eyes at Rick’s comment and shrugs. As if it’s not big deal that he talks about him to his friends. Paul smiles.

“Well, in that case what can I get you?”

“Coffee, black.” Rick replies, nudging Daryl as if to get his attention with a slight smile on his lips like he knows he’s embarrassing his friend. Daryl glances up at Paul and smiles shyly before turning to Rick and giving him a death glare, causing Rick to snort with laughter.

“Usual.” Daryl grunts.

Paul nods, “To go?”

“Nah’ we’re gonna stay a while’.” Rick says with a mischievous grin. The barista shies away a little and turns to ready their orders. 

“So, Rick, is your car in that garage a few blocks from here? I can never remember the name, something pretentious.” He asks as he gets their mugs ready, firing up the coffee machine. 

“Vehicle Surgeon?” he hears Rick say from behind him.

“Yeah! Great jobs they do in there.” Paul can feel his inner ‘Jesus’ persona bubbling up to the surface, which usually happens when he feels particularly awkward. “Took by piece of junk there a while back for just a simple check-up before it’s M.O.T, and the mechanic fixed up the whole thing for such a good price. Never got to meet them, apparently they don’t meet with customers, which is a little mysterious if you ask me but nether the less; I don’t think it’s ever run so smoothly, not since i’ve had it anyways.” Paul turns back around to find Daryl staring at him and Rick holding back a laugh.

“What?” he asks innocently pouring the cream into Daryl’s mug.

“’s where I work.” Daryl admits, lips upturned just slightly, but not enough to call it a smile.

Paul turns, coffee mugs in hand and blushes. He can feel his face heat up and probably turn into something closely related to a tomato.

He places the two mugs of coffee on the counter. “I suppose if anyone’s going to be a mysterious mechanic around here it would’ve been you.” he admits, then meets Daryl’s eyes, “Thank you.”

The mechanic shrugs and pays for their bill. “S’no problem.”

“Would you like to join us, Jesus?” Rick asks with a smirk. “Oh yeah, Daryl told me about that too.” The officer wonders off to find them a table, chuckling to himself as he goes.

Paul technically could join them, there was no-one else in the shop and if someone did happen to enter, he could easily deal with them. 

“Don’ hafta’ if you don’ wanna.” Daryl mumbled, noticing that Paul was thinking about his options.

“Would you mind?” 

Daryl seemed to grow confidence at that and smirked at Paul. “’Nah.”

So the three spent best part of an hour just talking amongst themselves, Jesus having to leave a few times for customers but soon returning to the easy chatter that fluttered between them. Paul learnt a lot about Daryl from Rick. They met through some sort of incident with Daryl’s brother, who sadly passed away, Rick was the one who helped Daryl get his life back on track. Helped set him up with the gig he has at the garage, helped him find a place of his own and move into said place. During this time the two men became closer and they soon found themselves hanging out. Daryl spent most weekends at Rick’s with his family. Which Rick gushed at and patted Daryl on the back claiming Daryl is now part of his family. Like a brother to him.

Rick shared hunting stories that the two had been on, and Daryl shared some of his own and his brother, Merle. Including his most famous story about a Chupacabra sighting. Although Daryl did admit he and his brother were high as a kite so it was anyone’s guess whether is was true or not. 

Their small meeting was much too soon interrupted by a phone call from Rick letting him know his car was ready to be collected. 

“Was nice to metcha’, Jesus. I’m sure i’ll see you again soon.” he says as he shakes his hand. Very cop like.

Paul smiled shyly. “I’ll meet ya’ back at the shop.” He mutters to Daryl as he walks past, leaving the shop with the bell chiming as he goes.

A silence fills the shop. But Paul doesn’t forget what Rick had said earlier, and figured if he didn’t ask now, he’d never find out.

“So...” he starts, facing Daryl on the coach, not much space between them. “You talk about all barista’s you meet to your friends?”

Daryl smirked and met the younger man’s eyes. “No, jus’ you.”

Jesus’ breath caught in his throat, that fluttering feeling erupting in his stomach. He inched his hand slightly towards Daryl’s, not to initiate anything, just in hope. To his surprise, Daryl’s hand moved to his, placing it on top of Paul’s.

“So I’m going to go out on a limb here and just ask you straight up.” Now or never. “Would you maybe like to get a drink sometime?” he asks, meeting Daryl’s eyes and getting slightly hypnotized by them.

“As long as it ain’t coffee,” the biker replies, teasing in his voice and a smile playing on his lips. Paul laughs but get’s interrupted by a rough hand being placed to cheek. He stops laughing. A feeling starting up in his gut that he hasn’t felt in years starts to make itself known as Daryl starts to lean forwards.

Time seems to slow as their lips meet. For a rough looking man, Daryl sure knows how to make Paul weak at the knee’s with the softest kiss he’s ever received. Just a soft, barely there touch and then Daryl’s breaks away, standing up. 

“7’clock Saturday.” Daryl states, picking up his helmet.

“I’ll be here.” Jesus replies, voice quiet and gentle, still in a daze.

“Bye, Paul.” And then he’s gone. 

Jesus kicks his feet a little on the ground like a child finding out they’re going to disney world, fishing out his phone from his pocket and dialing Tara’s number. She picks up on the first ring.

“I’ve got a date this weekend.” he says with a huge grin on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Desus Fic and my first time writing in a little over a year so please be kind and leave kudos or comments if you liked it.
> 
> A massive thank you to Max who helped and encouraged me through this writing, I'm not sure i would've had the confidence to post this without you.
> 
> Follow me on:  
> IG - smileycastiel  
> Tumblr - smileymultifandom


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